The Package
by dstrekharrylover
Summary: Spock receives a mysterious package in the mail and Christine is determined to find out what's in it ... and when she does, several unexpected events occur, to put it mildly.


THE PACKAGE  
JM Lane  
TOS/AU  
Spock, Christine (basically)  
Story Rating: PG-13 to R

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Paramount except my original character and my imagination

"Spock? Mr. Spock, you have a package." Tim Clark, the young lieutenant in charge of incoming mail, gave the Vulcan First Officer a strange look when the latter turned pale and didn't answer him. "Mr. Spock, is anything wrong? Are you ill?"

Spock raised his sleek dark head, then a disdainful eyebrow. "Certainly not, Lieutenant. I am quite well. I was simply--preoccupied."

"I see." The young man's reply was skeptical but he didn't contradict his superior, simply handed him an electronic invoice to sign. "I must have your signature, then verify your identity by retina scan."

After the signed invoice had been returned and the signature verified, the Lieutenant removed a small device from his belt and raised it to Spock's right eye. After a moment Clark turned the device off, satisfied.

"Where is the package, Lieutenant?" the Vulcan asked.

"Still on the cargo transporter, sir. It was beamed aboard a few minutes ago. It is large and bulky, so if you need help, I would be happy to assist--"

Spock held up a hand to stop him. "No, thank you, Lieutenant. I will be able to manage."

"Aye, sir." The young officer nodded slightly in acknowledgment and departed. The Vulcan's time sense told him that there were only 30.7 seconds left until shift change. In addition, his relief was already waiting, so he might as well go to the Cargo Transporter Room and retrieve his mail. That was the easy part. Getting the package to his quarters with all possible speed (particularly if it was what he thought it was) was what posed a problem.

Should he be spotted by Dr. McCoy--or anyone else he knew--he was unsure that he could be totally truthful. The Captain and other Bridge crew had already given him strange, penetrating looks upon noting his atypical reaction to the news of the package's arrival... but he could tell no one, not even Jim, what it was or why he had ordered it.

This merchandise was unlike anything he had ever ordered before, like computer tapes and such, which always came in small packages. This package was large and contained the most unVulcan thing he had ever purchased. Be that as it may, the Vulcan also knew that he would need something to see him safely through his upcoming Time of Mating. If this device was all it claimed to be, he could safely put off marriage for another seven years.

It was also the only logical alternative at the moment. There was no viable candidate for the role of his wife and bondmate, at least not that he was willing to admit...nor had Spock any real desire to leave Starfleet to settle down and raise a family. But even he had desires and yearnings, a hunger in his body which cried out to be satisfied...and no amount of Vulcan logic and discipline would make it go away. Hence the sophisticated device--or as Humans would call it, a 'sexual aid.'

Spock pushed that embarrassing thought from his mind. No purpose could be served by dwelling on such things. If the device worked, it would be worth every credit of the considerable sum he had paid. In addition, anything which permitted him to live his life unimpeded was logical.

Fortunately he encountered no one he knew, and was soon behind the locked doors of his quarters with the large package. Within the hour, the device had been installed on his bed. It only took five seconds to put a lock on his intercom as well. He would be occupied with very important business and did not wish to be disturbed unless it was an emergency.

"Hey, Chris, guess what Spock got in the mail this afternoon," Lt. Clark announced, excited as a child when he entered the Sickbay bioresearch lab at 1800 hours that evening.

Dr. Christine Chapel pricked up her ears at the sound of the Vulcan's name, but pretended professional disinterest. "What about Spock?"

"I said, he received a package in the mail this afternoon. A  
big one, too, I might add." The mailroom officer gave her a wicked grin.

"What about it?" Her voice was laced with impatience.

"You've heard of that sophisticated sex aid, haven't you? I hear it's the next best thing to having a lover. Hell, it was even shipped in a plain brown wrapper!"

Christine looked thoroughly insulted, if only for Spock's sake. "And you're saying that _Spock_ got one of them? Ridiculous. Vulcans don't care about such things."

"Except for a certain time every seven years," Clark leered, well knowing the female physician's true feelings. "And everyone knows that he's the only one aboard ship who isn't sleeping with someone."

"You're out of line, Lieutenant. Light-years out of line. Even if it's true--which I doubt--Mr. Spock's private life is none of your, or anybody else's, business." Her reply was icy.

Clark sighed and shrugged. "Suit yourself. I just thought  
you might like to know, given your feelings for him." The Lieutenant sounded miffed.

Christine turned up her nose at him and returned to work. Of all the vile things to say...and about Spock, of all people! Vulcans had no time for such Human vices as the "sins of the flesh". The only time he indulged was during his Mating Time--and even then it was only because he had to; he would die otherwise.

Still, could she afford not to check out the story for herself? As a Vulcan, Spock did not lock his quarters, trusting the other _Enterprise_ crewmembers not to invade his privacy...  
and so far, no one had--at least not without an invitation. She would soon be off-duty and free to investigate...but first took steps to make sure that Spock was busy elsewhere and unlikely to return unexpectedly.

Once she was off-shift, Christine made a quick visit to her own quarters before setting out for Spock's. Heart pounding, she hugged the shadows near it, looking around furtively to make sure it was deserted before she attempted entry.

Christine smiled wickedly upon finding the doors of Spock's quarters locked. So Lt. Clark's suspicions had been right on the money after all. All the better for her. In the meantime, she intended to prove to Spock that the real thing was far superior to any mechanical device, however sophisticated.

Using medical override, she unlocked the private quarters and quickly slipped inside. _Damn! It's like an oven in here,_ the female doctor thought as she wiped perspiration from her brow. Of course...Spock always kept the temperature of his quarters at Vulcan normal. Gravity, too--but thankfully he had left the gravity at Earth normal today.

Even so, it might as well have been Vulcan gravity because Christine's feet felt like lead as she made her way to the sleeping alcove. Her heart felt equally heavy in her breast; even her very soul was weighted down with guilt at her actions. She who professed to love Spock was invading his privacy, not to mention his trust, by being in his quarters without his knowledge or permission. On the other hand, all was fair in love and war.

Christine called for lights in the sleeping alcove, noting the unusual shape concealed by the bed covers. What she found upon pulling them back--well, suffice it to say that shock was too mild a word for her reaction. One appendage even looked like a woman's... oh, my God!

Christine shook her head violently. No, it couldn't be. It was impossible--even though she'd seen it with her own eyes! Further investigation uncovered small removable (and reusable) containers beneath the oral and vaginal receptacles; their function was obvious. The artificial appendages were even placed in the exact same positions their real-life counterparts occupied on a woman...like her!

Christine's face flamed at the thought even as her lips twisted lasciviously. Not only did she love Spock, she wanted him--  
so badly she could almost taste it--and intended to have him, whatever she had to do to accomplish it.

She set up the ultra-sensitive microphone Uhura had once given her for this very purpose, something which she'd never had the nerve to use until now. It was hidden in a safe place in his bed frame (or so she hoped) and she had hooked the other end into her bedside intercom, thankful that the mike only amplified sound one-way.

She would try it out after Spock had returned to his quarters and prepared for bed. Even if he didn't sleep, she had learned that that was usually around 0200 or so. And he usually slept every other day, on the average...sometimes every two, depending on what he happened to be working on at the moment. God knew she was taking a hell of a chance in more ways than one, but it would be worth the risk if it worked. Now all she had to do was wait until 0200--which proved to be the most difficult thing she'd ever had to do.

It seemed an eternity until the chrono registered 0200, but she managed to make it. Christine bathed and perfumed herself, then lay on her bed and switched on the intercom. For a while all she heard were noises which sounded like he was undressing (even the thought excited her). Then there were creaks, soft inarticulate grunts, and finally the sound of bare skin sliding over sheets. She couldn't help wondering. Did Spock sleep in the nude? It seemed unlikely, but given that last sound... Oh God, if she could only have had a holovid of this!

After some unintelligible sounds Christine heard something she had rarely heard from him--a moan. Of pleasure? It couldn't be...but yes, there it was again. And he seemed to be moving... Oh lord, if only it could have been _her_ lips and tongue giving him such pleasure!

He then collapsed onto his back. She imagined that Spock was manipulating himself back to full arousal in preparation for yet another session with the "artificial lover," as Christine had dubbed the highly sophisticated sex aid. Even in her wildest fantasies, Christine had never dreamed that Spock was capable of such uninhibited sexual activity--and had no intention of letting him waste any more of it on an unappreciative machine! If it was the last thing she ever did, she planned to show him exactly how superior the genuine article really was.

Before she could think twice, she threw on a pretty but casual dress and slipped on some backless sandals before making her way to Spock's quarters...hoping all the while that she wouldn't run into anyone she knew. Upon arrival, she again used medical override to gain entry.

After re-locking the door behind her, she dropped her dress and slipped out of her sandals on the way to the sleeping alcove. Upon reaching the doorway, Christine was hypnotized by the sight of Spock's perfectly proportioned and exotically beautiful body in the glow of the firepot. She marveled at the size of him.

She didn't think it was possible for someone who walked on two legs to have a member more in keeping with a creature which galloped on four... Christine cautiously sat down at the foot of Spock's bed and carefully lowered herself between his parted legs to replace the artificial mouth and hands with her own.

He moaned with pleasure and took hold of her head. How could he not have realized she was here? Was he so aroused that he was oblivious to all else? Not long afterward, Christine sensed that Spock was on the brink, bracing herself for the taste of his sweet nectar. It happened almost before she realized it; she savored it as a gourmet would savor a fine wine.

Moments later she was flabbergasted to hear his husky voice addressing her.

"Christine...Christine, come up here, please."

Oh my God, he knew! When had he realized it? What would he say? What would he do? She wouldn't blame him if he lectured her, then threw her out-- but no matter what happened, Christine could not bring herself to regret even one moment of the pleasure she had given him. She had waited far too long for this!

"Spock..." she whispered in a trembling voice. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment and shame. How could she ever face him again after this? Worse yet, he probably wouldn't ever speak to her again. Not that he did that much as it was... "Spock, I--I'm sorry...but I--wanted you so much. Please...try to understand. I just--couldn't wait any longer."

Spock drew her up to lie beside him, facing him, after moving the "artificial lover" aside. He silenced her with a finger on her lips. "Christine, I do not recall asking for an apology. How- ever, I _will _admit to surprise at finding you here. And one other thing... never apologize for giving pleasure." His rich baritone was soft and gentle, having an almost crooning quality.

"How--when did you know it was me?" she stammered.

The Vulcan put an arm around her, one hand gently pressing her head down to rest on his shoulder. He shivered as she snuggled closer and lightly stroked his bare back.

"When I first took hold of your head," he replied. "I felt  
the silkiness of your hair and smelled your perfume. The mechanism--"

One of her hands maneuvered its way between Spock's sculptured thighs to gently fondle him, causing a gasp of astonished pleasure at the feel of Christine's talented fingers.

"The mechanism--has neither," he finished.

"Then why didn't you say something before now?" she wondered incredulously as she stroked a gently rounded buttock with her free hand.

"I was far too...involved with what you were doing to me," he confessed with a satisfied smile. The crooning quality was still in his voice; Christine bowed her head with a mixture of happi- ness and shyness. Was Spock actually saying that he had--_enjoyed_ it?

"Christine, there is one question I would like you to answer for me before we continue." The Vulcan lifted her face to his, his tone gentle but firm as he regained control and looked deeply into his companion's eyes, his lips barely an eighth of an inch from hers. His voice was so quiet Christine could barely hear it, and his warm breath feathered her lips. "How did you know that I was in need of...sex?"

What could she say that wouldn't be a lie or make him upset with her? Try as she might, Christine couldn't think of a blessed thing.

"Perhaps this will refresh your memory." Spock inclined his head and found her lips with his.

Christine was sure she was dreaming. How could she really  
be here with the man she loved, in his arms and his bed...and most importantly, how could he really be kissing her? She closed her eyes as their lips met, seeking to prolong the dream as long as possible.

She opened them when he stopped, feeling a mixture of disbelief and happiness upon finding him still with her. Even  
so, she was incapable of thinking straight or saying a coherent word with Spock so close to her--but knew she had to somehow, or else she would lose him before ever having him.

"I... We women have--an...instinct--which tells us when...the man we love needs--sex." Christine's voice was shaky, unable to forget the warm sweetness of Spock's lips on hers, the gentle strength of his embrace or the feel of his warm, bare body next to hers.

"Then you are saying that you...came to me because of  
your--instinct...that you--sensed my need for...sex," he said hesitantly, almost apprehensively, as though his confession would frighten her.

"I had--purchased the sexual aid because I was...certain that you would either--turn me down or not...take me seriously if I made--sexual overtures toward you."

Christine kissed the nearest pointed eartip, smiling when she realized what it had cost him to confide such a thing. "How could you ever think that?" she gently admonished. "Surely  
you know how much I love you...how much I've always loved you--and wanted you," she confessed, more confident now. "Would I be here now if I didn't?"

"But...you--turned me down last time," Spock reminded her. "And it...hurt me, even though it was --understandable, given the way I have...treated you over the years. It was for that reason that I have--not...bothered you since. However, I now realize that I will need--more than just ...sex. I will need--a wife, a bondmate, to share my life with...and--have...children with." This time he was the one to bow his head.

Christine lifted his face to hers. "Spock, I--had no idea you felt..._that_ way about me."

"I will--understand if you...refuse, but you--are the most logical choice I could make. The _only_ choice I could make,  
in fact," he said quietly.

"Spock, what are you saying?" She sounded bewildered but hopeful.

"I wish...to marry you. That is, if you will still--have me."

"If I'll still _have_ you!" She hugged him tightly and kissed him passionately, pleased when he returned it. "Spock, have you any idea how many years I've dreamed of this moment... hungered for your closeness, your kisses and caresses? Even now, this all seems like a beautiful dream--and I can't help but think that I'll soon wake up to find myself alone in my quarters, crying my heart out with my arms wrapped around my pillow." Christine's blue eyes filled with tears; eventually two slid down her cheeks.

Spock brushed her tears away with gentle fingers, then softly kissed her wet cheeks. "It is no dream, Christine...and I shall do my utmost to ensure that you never cry because of me again unless it is with happiness." He brushed a lock of hair away from her face before kissing her temple with warm lips. "But now I must have your answer, for my Time will soon be upon me. Will you...be my wife, my bondmate, and--my lover? And most importantly, would you be--willing to...bear my children?"

"Yes, Spock. Oh, yes." Tears misted Christine's eyes again. Her heart felt so full that she was sure it would burst. He wanted to marry her! "And now I'd like to ask _you_ something." Her desire had increased with every passing moment, every breath she drew. His exotically sweet, musky scent intoxicated her, and Christine knew she could wait no longer. He had to possess her--and she him... right now! "Something I've wanted for years, but never dared ask of you because I--never dreamed that you could ever want it...or me."

"You--wish me to...make love to you," Spock accurately guessed as he once again felt himself becoming aroused.

"More than anything." Her voice was soft and provocative  
as her fingers threaded through his dark hair before lightly stroking the back of his neck. "But only if you want it, too."

"Very much," the Vulcan found himself confessing, words feathering her lips.

"The real thing is infinitely preferable to any artificial device, don't you think?" Her voice was husky with desire.

"Affirmative," Spock agreed formally. "Just as it is logical that we begin to make up for all lost time--starting right now."

"Kiss me..." she whispered, seeking his lips. Spock gently turned her beneath him and granted her request, effectively silencing her with a deep, thrilling kiss--soon making her forget every- thing but his nearness as he proceeded to fulfill every fantasy she'd ever had about him...and even a few she hadn't!

THE END


End file.
